


So It Goes Like This

by Witete



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Language, Panic Attacks, Pines Family, jheselbraum more like jheselmom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8548576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witete/pseuds/Witete
Summary: Jheselbraum pays a visit to the Pines family.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [embulalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/embulalia/gifts).



> Requested by embulalia!!!!  
> God, this was fun to write, man, thanks so much!!!  
> Also probably more angst than what you asked for, but hey, what didja expect.

Entering their realm was never anything short of _breathtaking._ Here the air was quiet and flowed like a slow-moving river; you can feel the currents of nebulas and comets beneath you, or that’s at least what it seemed like. The space was misty with soft pinks and white, like an early rain shower was seeping into the skies, bleeding peonies and roses. The vast sky past the fog was like the infinite stretch of space, but lighter and full of starts that seemed to wink at you as you passed. She has been here before, sure; they were one of her closest companions. Despite her many travels, she was always rendered speechless the instant she came into the Axolotl’s kingdom.

The static of the opened portal fizzles and winks out of existence behind her, leaving her suspended in the soft, light air. The space swirls like auras above and below her, making amorphous shapes and vague images of laughing faces.

The air was _almost_ dead silent. Upon entering, the world was so serene, one probably may not even notice at first. After a few moments of hearing nothing but her soft breathing, the single sense of sound reaches her and it was coming from the massive being that resides the space before her.

It was the low, consistent drum of the Axolotl’s heart.

She listens on, sighing contentedly at the world she has found herself in, practically forgetting to make herself known. It certainly wasn’t a pressing issue, for the Axolotl knew someone had entered their domain. The being shifted its weight in the nonexistent air, their tail swishing away the sparkling, pink dust.

 _“It is quite good to see you again, Jheselbraum,”_ the Axolotl hums, their pink skin shimmering against the light of the stars. The blue ridge on their spine sways with the movement, the pink light reflecting like glitter off its translucent surface.

“It’s always a pleasure seeing you as well,” Jheselbraum greets in return, watching as the gargantuan amphibian turns to face her. Their dark eyes sparkle and their mouth was curved into a sweet smile. Their small front feet were crossed in front of their chest and their tail curled comfortably at their side. Their gills crowned their round face in a sheath of red fire, but it did not make them look frightening. In fact, it made them look more regal.

The Axolotl’s smile broadens slightly as they peer down kindly at their subject. Their mouth did not move as they spoke. “ _You’ve come here for something, I presume.”_

Jheselbraum chuckles in return. “Couldn’t’ve fooled you, huh?”

The Axolotl chortles, the sound warm and kind as it echoed through the air. The nebulous swirls of space matter seem to respond by pulsing and spinning in the space around the pair. _“No, my Oracle; what is it you desire?”_

Jheselbraum peers at the god, fuzzy images flickering through her mind’s eye unconsciously. Sensations tug at her nerves and she feels the pull of reality itch at her brain.

The sensations and images do not last more than a split instant of time. She can see purples and reds and she could hear distant pleas for help. She feels her heart pound in her chest and she feels guilt consume her wholly, making her spook and miss her mark. A bright flash of white. Blinded? No, just dark. Dark, but not sleeping. Guilt; it floods in her veins like adrenaline. Sight, again, but wishing she couldn’t see _him._ Anger, animosity and guilt. Pain-oh god, pain. Dark again? Death…?

Feelings shoot through her brain in rapid succession: joy, hope, anger, fear, _terror,_ acceptance, forgiveness.

Loss. Guilt. Guilt. Pain. Guilt. Hope. Hope. _Hope._

_Will you give me a second chance?_

_See you next summer._

The Axolotl’s voice pierces through her, startling her from her visions. _“You would like to see him again.”_

Jheselbraum blinks her eyes, shaking the visions from her system. Their gaze was softer and their mouth was shaped into a small, but loving smile. There was a moment of silence before they shift closer to her, blinking their great eyes, stars twinkling like fire in their gaze. _“I’m sure he’d like to see you again as well.”_

“Not just him,” Jheselbraum admits softly. The Axolotl does not react, but his smile maybe broadens a little, though the alien is not aware. “I would like to meet the family that he has finally found his home in.”

The great animal hums in baritone agreement. Their pink skin flickers for a moment, turning shades darker into a scarlet that radiates with a quick bout of anger. It vanishes faster than it had come and Jheselbraum winces at the harsh change, her own skin instinctively flickering as well. _“The ones who destroyed the One-Eyed Beast,”_ They say softly after their skin has settled back into its serene pink, with a deep tone of respect and adulation.

She nods, though she knows they don’t need confirmation to the fact. As much as she’d love to see Stanford Filbrick Pines again, she also desires to see the family that assisted in defeating the tyrant that assaulted the multiverse for longer than her species even existed. She desires to meet them personally and give them the gratitude they deserved.

She scoffs to herself, shaking her head fondly. They had defeated the most formidable opponent in the whole multiverse and then continued to live on as if it wasn’t a big deal. Of course, she sees more than that, as did the Axolotl, but they played it as if was all in a day’s work; as if it was just another blip in their strange and unusual lives. If she could gather the entire multiverse’s lifeforms and send them to Earth to congratulate them, she would instantly, even if the Axolotl would’ve been not too fond of that idea.

It’s been about a year on 46’\, two and a half in 430\\\’ and as many as three hundred in places like 99-37ZX since Bill’s defeat and they were still celebrating. In every universe, in every single existence of life, Bill was defeated by the Pines in August of 2012 in 46’\\.

She wasn’t sure they quite grasped the gravity of the victory and she wanted to make sure that they did, even if their human minds simply couldn’t grasp it. She was destined to try.

That and she needs to thank them for bringing Ford home, literally and figuratively.

They deserve it.

“I would like to visit them for some time; present day. I want to thank them for everything.” Jheselbraum concludes, bringing her gaze up to the Axolotl.

 _“You would also appreciate spitting on the tyrant’s statue,”_ they respond in a playfully smug manner after a few moments, their tail flicking to prod her.

Jheselbraum gasps as if she was offended and puts a hand upon her breast. “How dare you assume I’d do an act such as that?”

 _“I would do the same, my Oracle,”_ the amphibian says, their gills flaring with jest. _“You need not lie, especially to me.”_

“Lying is not any fun with you anyways,” Jheselbraum says, giving her ruler a kindhearted grin.

The animal chuckles, laying their great head upon their paws. _“You have my blessing. I shall only allow you a single day as to not disrupt the fabric of time too harshly- or else Time Baby will become even crankier once he returns.”_

Jheselbraum doesn’t have time to thank them before the Axolotl releases a heavy sigh, the mist curling and coiling around their face. Their eyes shut for a moment and when they open again, Jheselbraum can see Earth rotating in their eyes, surrounded by black space.

 _“June 15 th, 2013. Present day. 46’\\. Gravity Falls, Oregon,” _their voice hums and the world around Jheselbraum’s eyes begins to darken. She begins to feel light again, as if she were falling asleep. She listens to the soft pounding of the amphibian’s heartbeat as she slipped into night.

On the edge of her muddled hearing, she can hear the Axolotl speaking:

_“They have my full respect and adoration, the Pines. I wait eagerly for the day I shall see them again, without the forgetfulness.”_

Her consciousness slips and dark swathes her.

She remains in uncertain suspension for a few moments before she blinks awake and she is met looking up at the blue sky in dimension 46’\\.

 

“Oi! Watch where you throw those!” his brother gripes beside him, grimacing at his now soggy shoes.

“Sorry Grunkle Stan!” the two small twins chorus, only wasting a second to glance at him before they return to their water balloon battle. Dipper gives a rather unpleasant shriek as his sister pelts a bright pink balloon at his head. It speeds like a rocket, but he ducks fast enough to miss the watery fate. The young boy retaliates after a brief moment, chucking a blue balloon back, laughing as if it has already hit her.

It goes on like this, both twins soaking and sweating and laughing. Their cheeks are red with exhilaration and their hair is frizzy from the hot afternoon air. The grass under their feet is churned up, exposing dirt (now mud) to Stan’s displeasure and the pine trees are swaying gently in the light breeze. The sun peeks out occasionally from behind fluffy white clouds and birds cry out from their nests in the trees.

A few gnomes peek out from the undergrowth, safe from the young Pines’ destruction. A couple minutes prior, Stan swore he saw the shaggy black dog that keeps poking around the shack in the early hours of twilight, but the forest is so dark sometimes it’s hard to tell; Ford made sure to tell him so, earning a dramatic eye roll. He resolves to investigate later. He has more important things to do now.

He sips his Pitt Cola, watching the twins with both a careful and amused eye. Stan grumbles beside him, fiddling with the laces of his shoes. They are sitting on the couch on the porch, enjoying each other’s company and encouraging the kids in their little competition. The cooler rests beneath Stan’s feet, housing water for the kids as well as liquor for the older pair for whenever the kids become tired and desire to go inside with the cool AC.

They can hear Soos’ voice from the front of the building, saying something about an incredible new discovery; the following voices expressing their awe makes Stan smile a little, despite his denial whenever Ford asked. This was Soos’ last tour of the day; he would soon leave and spend the rest of the evening with Melody, if Ford’s memory serves him correctly. So once Soos left, it would be just the four Pines’ manning the house overnight.

Ford thinks that maybe it was one of Soos’ little gifts to Stan, as both a ‘welcome home’ and ‘happy birthday’ to his father figure. Or maybe it was for the youngest twins. Or maybe he just wanted to be with Melody. He wasn’t too sure, but he wasn’t complaining.

It would be nice to spend the night with his family. Mabel had suggested movies to watch, though most of them seemed to be in the realm of teenybopper drama; though he may not have been too intrigued by them, it was hard to say ‘no’ to her. She had then proceeded to conjure a list of her favourite movies with a summary and an actor list to accompany each, trying to convince her grunkles. Ford had glanced at Stan as she went on to name her tenth movie, shocked by her memory and persistence. Stan seemed unperturbed by their niece’s knowledge and simply shrugged when he noticed Ford staring.

Dipper, in relation, had requested some horror films. Ford was surprised by this desire, especially coming from the rather anxious child. After a few minutes of looking through some titles, the boy startled at the distorted face on the movie _Sinister_ and Ford realized that he had been trying to seem tougher than he actually was. Ford internally chuckled at the inference, remembering the times where he had felt or even acted the same way. Despite Dipper’s rather lackluster attempts at convincing his uncles, the two older twins shook their heads, not wanting to have to deal with late night anxiety attacks from the teen boy.

Needless to say, no movie had been agreed on yet, but the smaller twins didn’t seem to mind. They came up with multiple half-formed ideas, a water balloon fight being one from Mabel’s creation. Their energy had increased tenfold and now here they are.

Stan kicks off his shoes and leans back into the couch, sighing contently and nursing his drink. “S’nice to be back here,” he says at the end of his sigh. Ford smiles at Stan and chuckles as a balloon hits Dipper square in the back, eliciting a startled squeak. “It certainly is. It’s nice to see the kids as well.”

Stan gives a hum of agreement, nudging his brother with his elbow. “How’s your birthday so far, nerd?”

Ford’s smile widens. “Couldn’t be better,” he looks at Stan, noting his faint grin as he watches Mabel chase after her brother. “How’s yours?”

“Ah, fine,” Stan says passively with a wave of his hand, which essentially translates to ‘it’s amazing and I couldn’t ask for a better place to be.’ After telling Mabel to stop torturing her brother by trickling water down his back, Stan turns to Ford, reflective his brother’s smile. Before he can say anything something, movement catches both their eyes. They turn their heads towards the forest, carefully watching the kids tumble and laugh in the grass, just a little ways from the edge of the pine forest.

The gnomes are gone and that’s what Ford notices first. The undergrowth is vacant and the birds have stopped singing. Ford feels his anxiety spike and he leans forward, trying not to startle the kids by getting up faster than his heart was beating currently. He even feels Stan tense beside him, one hand gripping his thigh.

Stan releases a chuckle with an edge to it. “Ah, we’re still on edge from being in monster infested waters.”

Ford isn’t too convinced.

He continues to peer into the woods, waiting for any sign of movement to show itself. He can’t help but jump to his feet when he hears a rather large branch snap, his drink falling to the ground.

“Sixer,” Stan hisses as if he’s angry or annoyed, but his eyes stick to the woods, watching for the danger that the pair had sensed.

Over time, they had learned to trust each other’s guts, especially when it came to boating on the sea or docking in unfamiliar places. Ford had learned to look to Stan whenever they ported, letting his socially superior brother book things or navigate and whatnot. Whenever Stan got a funny feeling about a port or city-whether it is his old “friends” or too many eyes watching them- Ford would trust Stan to hightail them out of there. Likewise, Stan trusted Ford in how to handle the cryptids that infested the cold, arctic waters. While Stan navigated and plotted routes, Ford kept a lookout, warning him if they came too close to a glacier or a pod of sirens. While Ford’s excitement for the supernatural hindered his ability to judge the safety of the situation, the thought of possibly endangering his brother usually deterred the desire.

_Usually._

They stare into the dense woods, trying to decipher movement from the darkness. The small twins had stopped playing and were glancing between their uncles and the forest at their backs, water balloons in their hands, poised to throw.

Another branch snaps and the kids scramble backwards, kicking up clumps of mud. Ford moves forward, edging towards the woods while Stan moves carefully towards the small children.

Dipper and Mabel look on, fear surprisingly lacking in their gaze. They stand on their feet and stare into the woods, silent but appearing ready to fight if it came to that. Ford’s chest blooms at the kids’ bravery and strength, but he knows, if it comes to it, he would fight to the death for them before they even had the chance to land a punch; he knows Stan would do the same.

Ford pauses at the lip of the woods, his feet crunching on dry pine needles. He draws a breath, pricking his ears to try and hear the massive animal roaming in the woods.

After a few tense seconds, a faint purple begins to bleed through the foliage, shattering the greens and browns that usually accompany the woods. Names of creatures fly through his head, but none of them match any description as the creature moves closer, now incredibly silent.

Ford takes a careful step back, ready to tell his family to go inside when he hears a soft voice speak his name.

He instinctively reaches for the gun at his hip and his heart drops when he realizes that it’s no longer there. The absence of the weight at his hip makes his hands twitch and he balls them on instinct, setting his feet. How he wishes he hadn’t heeded Stanley when he said to leave all weapons in his room.

 _No matter_ , he supposes, watching the purple shift closer. _You’ve handled worse._

“Who are you?” Ford bites, taking another uneasy step back in spite of himself. He swallows nervously as he sees just how tall the creature is stalking towards him.

The being made a soft, almost sweet sound- a genuine sound. It takes Ford a few seconds to realize that it was laughing and the sound suddenly triggers something in the back of his head.

 _No; that’s impossible. It can’t be_ her _!?_

“I see not much has changed, has it? You’re still quite the little fighter.” the shape moves closer still and Ford can finally see the creature’s eyes glint like twilight in the dark; he can see the distinct seven-eyed gaze upon a cloaked body.

Ford supposes he proves her right as he has to stare up at her as she practically glides through the brush, much to his vexation.

Ford opens his mouth, trying to speak, but no sound came out. He was caught in the space between demanding why she was here and rushing up to hug her-defend himself against a possible…shapeshifter or tell her how amazing it was to see her again.

She laughs again, but it’s sweeter this time. She moves forward until she’s on the edge of the woods and Ford is just a few steps ahead of her. She kneels down upon the leafy ground, cutting her own size in half (even though she’s still a good deal taller than Ford is) and she smooths out her dress.

Her skin dawns light lavender, the kind you see against a rising sun. A slightly darker violet blush colours her cheeks and he can see faint freckles on her cheeks and chin. Her eyes are crystalline blue which stand out extravagantly against the purple skin and the greyish-blue hood of her robes. Her dress is a slightly lighter grey and it looks like it’s of silk with the way it reflects the sunlight.

“I understand your confusion, Stanford, but I assure you that I am not some sort of shape-changing creature.” Jheselbraum says softly, her ocean blue eyes sparkling through her smile.

Ford stares at her for a second, a smile growing on his face. His eyes knit upwards and his eyes glow behind his spectacles. Something tight releases in his gut and his defenses collapse.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he breathes before he closes the distance and hugs her, fight or flight gone. She chuckles once more and he feels her arms wrap around his back, pressing him closer to her warm body. “God, it’s so good to see you,” he says with a muffled voice as his head is pressed against her shoulder.

“And I, you,” she responds gently, holding onto him for a few seconds longer before parting. Ford smiles at her adoringly before someone clears their throat behind him. Jheselbraum’s eyes widen a little as Ford turns to greet a confused Stanley, a stoked Dipper, and a Mabel with practical stars in her eyes.

“You give me whiplash sometimes, Stanford,” Stan says, an amused (but also mildly concerned) smirk curling across his lips. “Who is it this time?”

“Ah, yes,” Ford clears his throat, trying to wipe the embarrassment from his face. He steps back from Jheselbraum and gestures to her kindly. “This is Jheselbraum the Unswerving; she nursed me back to health at one point when I was stuck beyond the portal.”

Jheselbraum gives a kind smile and sits on her heels, folding her hands in front of her. “Hello Stanley, Mabel and Ma-, no it’s Dipper isn’t it? It’s certainly good to meet you.”

Both Dipper and Stan open their mouths simultaneously, only to be silenced by an excited squeal.

“Oh my goodness!” Mabel exclaims, hopping on her heels, barely able to contain her excitement. “You’re _gorgeous_!”

Even the clairvoyant Jheselbraum blinks at the small girl in front of her, struck by her forwardness. Very quickly, the shock morphs into pure adoration for the glittering child.

“Oh, thank you Mabel, darling,” she says gently, her skin flushing a darker purple at the compliment. “You are quite elegant yourself.”

Ford didn’t think it was possible for Mabel’s eyes to sparkle even more, but as he watched the alien shift her colours right before Mabel’s eyes, it became clear that the entire universe couldn’t even dream holding as many stars as Mabel’s eyes retained at that moment.

“And your skin changes _colour_?!” Mabel gasps, rushing up to Jheselbraum and grasping at her large hand. “You’re like a chameleon from outer space, but a lot cooler and prettier! Can you do it again? Please?”

Before the star child could even finish her request, Jheselbraum’s skin was already shifting into the exact pink colour of the sweater that was wrapped around Mabel’s waist. The colour ripples across her body like rain on a windowsill or like paint dripping into a cup of water.

Mabel shrieks again, her smile so large and her face so bright with joy it made Ford’s heart melt.

“Uh, Mabel,” Dipper murmurs from behind her, never taking his eyes off Jheselbraum. “You may be overwhelming her…”

“Oh, nonsense, Dipper,” Jheselbraum says gently, giving him a knowing gaze. “You are incredibly excited as well; you’re just more reserved than your sister is, not to mention you’re also wary of me.”

Dipper looks at her with shock, but the shuffling of his feet and wringing of his hands is the telltale sign that she is right.

“Come closer, child; I won’t harm you,” Jheselbraum says sweetly, extending her unoccupied arm towards the anxious boy.

Dipper swallows nervously, instinctively looking to the author for the go ahead.

Ford smiles and nods. “She’s very nice; I promise she won’t harm you, Dipper.”

As Dipper slowly makes his way closer to the alien, Stan shoots a look of bewildered confusion at Ford. It’s quite clear to Ford that Stan is very unnerved by the entire situation, as he’s not too used to benevolent, other-worldly creatures. To be fair, neither is Ford, but he knows that Jheselbraum is kind; if it wasn’t for her, Ford would probably be dead.

Ford wasn’t terribly ill or injured at the time of his rescuing; he could’ve managed. That being said, he wasn’t the slightest bit ungrateful at Jheselbraum’s hospitality; she dealt with the wounds he had, gave him food and water, and, most importantly, installed the metal plate in his skull to prevent Bill’s influence. She cared for him after the surgery as well, making sure there was no infection, allergic reaction or any other dangerous potential consequences. If it hadn’t been for her, Bill probably would’ve caused Ford’s sanity to completely slip. Ford may not have survived that brutal mugging that happened in the later years of his travels, only obtaining a concussion instead of a caved skull. Ford may not have regained his memories when his grandnephew shot the memory gun. Ford would not have let Stan take his place in the Fearamid.

If it wasn’t for Jheselbraum, the universe would’ve been Bill’s.

The mere thought of Ford without Jheselbraum’s help makes him feel incredibly sick to his stomach.

Jheselbraum seems to notice Ford’s distress and she turns to Stanley, who in turn squirms under her seven-eyed gaze.

“You’re more distressed than Dipper is, Stanley Pines,” she says, not unkindly. Dipper can’t help but jolt as her hand lightly grips his shoulder; however, he doesn’t pull away.

Jheselbraum tilts her head a little. “You’re afraid your brother is wrong.”

Stan belts out an uncomfortable laugh. “Yeah, well that wouldn’t be the first time, heh.” He rubs the back of his neck, but he does take half a step closer to the alien.

“Suppose s’just the fact that you just randomly show up on m- Soos’ front lawn and Sixer starts gushin’ about you; I don’t have a reason to trust you, but I guess Sixer does so-“

There is a beat of silence in the air before Ford takes a step towards his brother. “Not to get heavy, but if it wasn’t for her, I probably wouldn’t be alive, Lee.”

Stan tries to hide his wince with a soft “hm”, but it’s not too subtle, even for the practiced conman.

“I’m serious, Stanley. I know, it was hard for me to trust her at first too, but I _promise_ she’s okay,” Ford attempts to convince his brother, though with the stone face he’s dawning, it’s hard to tell if it’s working.

“If it’s any assistance, Stanley,” Jheselbraum starts, gently moving the small children to her side. “I’ve come to thank you.”

Okay, _that_ provokes a response from Ford’s stubborn brother. His eyebrows knit in confusion and he straightens his back slightly.

“Why?” he says confusedly. He crosses his arms and his hands grip his biceps nervously, eyeing his brother.

Ford looks between Jheselbraum and Stanley, a smile forming on his lips. He knows what this is about.

Stan takes a spooked step back as the alien puts one hand on her sternum and brandishes the other out by her side. She tilts her head downwards in a sideways head bow, her eyes not leaving the man.

“M’kay, this is weird,” Stan mutters, but he doesn’t seem unnerved anymore; he is deeply curious instead. The children exchange glances, but their eyes eventually fall on their great uncle.

“You made a dire sacrifice to save, not just your family, but millions of universes from Bill Cipher’s wrath,” Jheselbraum speaks and the children’s eyes widen simultaneously, the truth to the words biting them.

“I have spoken with the highest power that exists and they are extraordinarily thankful for you and your bravery in the face of the Devil,” she pulls her head from her bow and smiles again. “You are one of the most revered beings in the whole multiverse; we are all very grateful.”

Stan is silent, staring at the alien with befuddlement. Ford can tell he’s battling with himself, torn between amazement and self-doubt. He’s frozen to the spot, not even his eyes moving as he processes the unimaginable weight of information settled upon him.

He gives a gentle chuckle, as if he’s about to brush it off, but instead his eyes widen in a look similar to that of desperation.

“Really?” his whisper is barely there, barely above the gentle breeze. He breaks eye contact with Jheselbraum to meet Ford’s. The look of shock and masked pride deep within the embers of his irises makes Ford want to laugh and cry all at the same time.

It was hard for Stanley to be prideful of himself; it was hard to find him truly prideful and not just mask his sadness with his brick wall of a façade. Ford knew how vulnerable and sad his brother really was, despite the thick skin he wore as armour. Ford watched it unfold firsthand once when Stan was regaining his memories and once when they had boarded the boat. Every now and again, Stan’s sense of worthlessness would rear its ugly head and Ford tried to be there for him as best as he could, hoping to smother the self-hate with validation and love. Most of the time it worked, but sometimes it just wouldn’t; sometimes all Stan could do was yell and maybe even deliver a few half-assed blows to Ford’s chest or arms (because Ford wouldn’t let him hit himself) before he got it out of his system.

That wasn’t the best way to do things, Ford knew that, but fuck if he doesn’t know what that feels like- wanting to blame yourself for everything, even things out of your control; wanting to hurt yourself because it’s always somehow your fault; wanting to sink into the floor because it’s easier to wallow alone than weigh someone else with your problems. It was torture, to say the very least.

But to see Stan genuinely prideful of something, even though it was masked to the untrained eye, felt like a massive win to Ford against the sinister blackness that swathed Stan’s mind.

Ford gave a proud smile to Stan. “Really.”

Stan continued to appear thunderstruck before he cleared his throat and schooled his gaze, looking back at Jheselbraum, whose arms were now lowered.

“Heh, the dumb triangle had it comin’. Nobody messes with my family ‘n gets away with it,” Stan says, pointing a thumb to his chest. The smile put on was not a fake one, though it fooled Ford for a moment. Ford hadn’t seen Stan actually smile that broadly in a long time and he couldn’t help but utter a chuckle.

“Nobody messes with Grunkle Stan!” Mabel cheers, running to hug her great uncle’s waist. “Except me; I’m allowed!”

“Ah, you’re next ya little gremlin,” Stan bites playfully, ruffling her hair adoringly.

Mabel gives a playful screech and she tries to wriggle away from her uncle, but he’s quick to pull her into a gentle headlock, prodding her sides with tickles.

“Dipper!” she squeals breathlessly, her legs twitching in vain attempt to shield herself from Stan’s hands.

Ford laughs and waits for Dipper to come to her aid, but the small boy doesn’t move. He has manifested a pen from god knows where and was now chewing on it, his eyes skittering over the alien that knelt before him.

Stan notices his grandnephew’s hesitation and chuckles again, swiftly picking Mabel up and setting her upon his shoulders.

“Heh, not even your brother can save you now. S’too busy fawning over Ford’s friend.”

“Hey, I am not!” Dipper says, whirling around, trying to seem serious, even with Mabel’s overly dramatic moans of despair.

This time it was Jheselbraum’s turn to laugh, making Dipper jump and turn back towards her.

“I can practically see your thoughts in your eyes, child,” she says, her colour shifting again, making Mabel gasp in the background.

She gives the young boy a small smile. “To be frank, you remind me of your great uncle Stanford-“she pauses, giving a now sheepish Ford a sidelong glance. “-never seeming to run out of questions.”

She proceeds to sit down on the pine needles and curls her legs to one side of her body. “I hope I’ll never run out of answers.”

Ford thought Mabel held the universe’s stars in her eyes, but then Dipper’s lit up like the sun and threw Ford’s hypothesis out the window. The kid was speechless for a moment, obviously trying to organize his thoughts in a way that was presentable.

Jheselbraum gave a sideways smirk. “A lot like your uncle, aren’t you?”

A mild pang went through Ford as Dipper went on to stutter his first inquiry after a hesitance.

He knew what Jheselbraum was referring to when she said that Dipper was a lot like Ford, but something clicked inside his brain that told him _no, I don’t ever want him to be like me._

Dipper’s curiosity was a good, wholesome thing. Ford’s curiosity, however, always seemed to get him in trouble. Dipper’s persistence was strong, but he always seemed to know when to stop; Ford pushed until it hurt. Dipper was a good person and…well…

Ford…couldn’t say the same for himself.

Maybe it shows on his face for a split moment because he sees Jheselbraum stiffen and it wasn’t from Dipper’s innocent question about where she was from.

The comment continues to pester him, even after he’s sat down on the grass a few steps away from Jheselbraum and Dipper. Stan takes up the space beside him, trying to be subtle to the fact that he was actually listening to what Jheselbraum has to say by watching Mabel draw a birthday present in her sketchbook beside him.

Ford tries to listen, but most of it he already knows. Ford tries to watch Mabel draw, but the caricature of himself drawn so lovingly and with so much care and thought makes him wince and look away.

He felt ashamed that he couldn’t be what she saw him as. It makes the twinge in his stomach clench harder.

Mabel seems to notice her uncle’s distress at a point and asks kindly if she can play with his hair. He nods an affirmative and it doesn’t even occur to him that Stanley has told the kids that that’s one way to ease him out of his hurtful thoughts; he should’ve realized as he did the same for Stanley.

The ministrations do feel nice, but it’s distant; it’s not strong enough to drag him from the depths.

He must have zoned out for a while because when he comes back to reality, both Mabel and Dipper are sat on Jheselbraum’s lap. Mabel is awed by the purple amulet around the alien’s neck and Dipper is doodling in a small notebook, his pen clicking rapidly.

A weight is settled on Ford’s shoulder and he turns his head slightly to spy Stan, peering at him quizzically.

It occurs to Ford that his brother may have asked him a question.

Ford blinks hard and rubs the back of his neck with a hand. “I’m sorry Stanley, I didn’t catch that.”

Stan’s look softens into something almost sad. “The alien wants you.”

“Oh,” Ford ducks slightly, looking at Jheselbraum who wears a gaze similar to Stanley. The children didn’t seem to notice their exchange, but they politely move off Jheselbraum when she asks them to.

“Let’s go get more water balloons, Dipdop!” Mabel laughs excitedly before glancing at the alien. “Do you want to play with us later?”

The sympathetic gaze in Jheselbraum’s eyes vanishes and her aqua blue colours flush as she regards Mabel sweetly. “I’d love to, young child. Get a few hits on your twin for me,” she finishes with a playful smile. Mabel replies with a hurried “Okay!” before scampering off, beating her walking brother to the door. She yells a competitive taunt and vanishes into the shack, presumably readying a fresh batch of water balloons. Dipper picks up his pace and follows his sister inside, yelling something in return.

Despite his current condition, Ford conjures a slight smile, but it falls quickly when he realizes the two people left have their eyes on him. He tucks his head and avoids the eyes, even though Jheselbraum’s are practically impossible to avoid. He feels heat rise in his stomach and he unconsciously folds his hands behind his back.

“What’s eatin’ ya, Sixer? You usually like it when Mabel plays with yer hair,” Stan says worriedly, his tone soft and quiet –an extreme contrast to his usual nature- as he tries to catch Ford’s eyes.

Ford shuts his eyes tightly and releases a shuddering breath of air. He can feel the frustrating poison in his head manifest into tears, which is why he resolves to keep his eyes shut.

“Too much,” he whispers. He feels Stan deflate next to him.

_A lot like your uncle, aren’t you?_

_Ford, please just trust me; one last time, just trust me._

_Let’s see how long it takes for you to break, Fordsie. Whether it’s physical or not, it’s up to you; just give me what I need._

_Some brother you turned out to be._

He swears he can feel the jolts of electricity slither up his arms in flowering branches. He swears that he can feel his muscles contract and freeze or he can feel the fog that moves inside his brain before it shuts down in a seizure. He swears he can feel each scar that crawls across his skin.

He swears…maybe…it’s all wrong.

The overload is enough to make a strangled sound move across his tongue.

The weight of everything feels like it’s crashing down all at once. The guilt pulses through him like adrenaline and his mind assaults him, –the sounds, the sights, the feelings- pushing him further underwater.

_No, no don’t turn out like me. Don’t hurt your family out of selfishness, egotism, flattery._

_Please don’t, Lee- I can’t lose you again._

_I can’t I can’t I can’t; I won’t let you have it –oh god, please just kill me- for as long as I live._

_I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry._

_“I’m so sorry.”_

He was shaking. He didn’t realize it until the weight tightened around his shoulder and jolted him out of his screaming head. His hands tightened painfully behind his back.

“Stanford.”

The soft voice pierces his thoughts like a light in a dark forest, but despite that, he draws a sharp breath.

Someone counts to six beside him. Unconsciously, at six, he releases his breath. Another count of six. Another breath. Another count.

“Come back, buddy. It’s okay,” Stan says. “You’re okay. I forgive you.”

Ford feels a hand rub circles on his back comfortingly. He feels another, much larger hand pry at his own hands, which are still relatively tightly wound behind his back. Ford considers fighting it, but his pride has already taken a hard enough blow to bruise, and he allows Jheselbraum to peel his hands away from each other.

He takes a deep breath and he resolves to crack open his eyes. Instantly, tears rim his eyelashes and threaten to spill across his cheeks. Through his muddled vision, he can see his hands are encased by two aquamarine ones, their thumbs rubbing the backs of his hands which are now riddled with red crescents.

“Can you look at me, Stanford?” Jheselbraum says softly, sounding more like a request than a demand. Ford takes it as such and shakes his head, not desiring to be in more shame than he is right now.

He hears her sigh and she closes her hands tighter around his.

“I know it’s hard, child, but understand that your brother and I are here. We wish to help you.”

Ford nods in spite of himself, a few tears dancing from his lashes into his lap.

He flinches a little as one of her large hands move to the back of his head. She lightly traces the scar that crawls from ear to ear, her finger grazing the parts where the hair never grew back in full. Her hand moves downwards and begins to mess with the curls below his ear.

He was finally starting to calm down.

After a minute of relative silence, Jheselbraum shifts her position to sit more fully on the ground.

“You’re feeling lost, Ford. You’re feeling sad and alone and incredibly guilty, and don’t bother denying it, you would not make a compelling argument.”

Ford winces and shuts his mouth, though it wasn’t like he could’ve made any sort of sentence even if he wanted to. He flushed harder, feeling his emotions being rocketed back at him like a bullet to the cranium.

“I’m s-sorry,” he ends up managing, his voice a broken whisper with tears threatening to well in his eyes again.

“I’m so so sorry.”

“Ford,” Stan says rather sternly, making both Jheselbraum and Ford jolt a little. “Look at me.”

Ford shakes his head.

“I’m not giving you the same courtesy as Jessie, moron,” Stan bites. “Look at me.”

Ford takes a deep, shaking breath and gradually looks up to meet his brother’s gaze. It was hard enough for him to hold eye contact as it was; this was just sinister.

Despite Stan’s harsh tones, his true emotions were clear as day inside his eyes. While all other features of his face screamed anger, his still and soft eyes held Ford’s gaze.

“You’ve apologized enough and if you say those words again, I’ll slap you, you understand?”

Ford barely had time to wince before Stan continued, albeit a lot gentler. “You think I don’t know what this feels like? Hatin’ yourself to no end or blaming every little inconvenience on yourself? I know we both have issues, Sixer, but you’ve gotta understand that whatever you say will not go over my head, even if I am the dumb twin.”

Ford narrows his eyes at the last few words, but Stan silences the possible lash with a glare.

“I know you’re sorry Sixer, and you know we’ve all forgiven you, please remember that. I know you’re not like me; you don’t have a way with words, and you don’t have charisma like me-“

Stan gave a flimsy, charmed smile, and Ford couldn’t help but snort.

“-but that doesn’t mean you’re inferior or not worthy for forgiveness,” he pauses again, allowing the words to sink into Ford before laughing at the way his face screwed up. “Heh, funny havin’ your own words thrown back, eh?”

Ford gave a broken chuckle. “You’re an asshole.”

Stan’s small smile widens. “Yeah, well, it’s workin’. Whatever happened, it’s in the past. What we’re fightin’ right now is a sonvuva bitch, I know, but you gotta trust me.”

Ford’s smile dips a little. “I do trust you.”

“I mean,” Stan rolls his eyes, “You gotta trust me with your feelings. I know you ain’t fond o’ that, but that’s the only way we’re gonna get better.”

Ford nods silently and breaks eye contact, a weary sigh shuddering through his chest. A beat of silence follows before something squeezes Ford’s hands.

“Your brother is right, Ford,” Jheselbraum says, her hands pulsing soft and calming hues of blue. “Besides, you cannot deny that you are much happier now than you were thirty or even forty years ago. You’re happy to be home, with Stanley, Mabel, and Dipper. You’d do anything and everything to protect them and that’s where all this guilt is coming from isn’t it?”

Ford doesn’t need to answer; she knows she’s hit the nail on the head.

“You don’t want Dipper to make the mistakes you’ve made. You don’t want to hurt your brother anymore. You don’t want to make Mabel sad. You think their lives would be better without you.”

There was no response from the twins, only a deep shudder from Ford and a sympathetic sigh from Stanley.

“You’re wrong. Incredibly wrong,” Jheselbraum says. “Look at the life you’ve made for yourself and your family. You gave the children the summer of their lives. You’re living you and your brother’s dream out in the sea. You helped defeat the most notorious demon this multiverse has ever seen.”

“I know it’s hard to believe, even coming from a clairvoyant creature like myself, but you do not make this universe worse by any means. If you did, do you really think I’d be here now? Do you think Stan would be?”

Ford doesn’t answer, but he bites lip guiltily. Stan rocks Ford’s shoulders with a heavy arm. “You’re worth enough, knucklehead, don’t forget it.”

They all sit silently for a few minutes, the fog inside Ford’s mind clearing slowly. The thoughts were still there, but they fell away into the distance, screaming at him from miles away. His shaking slowed into gentle breaths and he concentrated on Stan’s heartbeat thumping into his arm. That was until Stan gives a rather undignified scream and he jumps to his feet faster than lightning.

Ford’s head shoots up and his fists curl, ready for a potential fight. His guard falls into a soft smile and a scoff as he realizes that his brother was now soaking at his back, hot pink latex rubber clinging to Stan’s clothing.

Mabel laughs from a ways behind them, her smile wide and triumphant. Dipper stands behind her, a purple balloon poised above his head.

“Those little shits,” Stan playfully mumbles under his breath, his smile turning hard and competitive.

“I’ll pummel you two into the mud!” he shouts, taking strong strides towards them.

“Gotta catch us first!” Mabel sings, grabbing Dipper by the wrist and giving Stan a wide berth as they make their way towards Ford and Jheselbraum.

Ford chuckles as the children hide behind the large alien, giggling and grabbing at her robes.

“I’m not a very effective fortress, children,” Jheselbraum laughs as Stanley reaches to grab the pair. They dodge him, but not before Dipper throws his balloon. It crashes at Stanley’s feet, spraying both Ford and Jheselbraum in the process.

“Augh,” Ford gripes, running a hand through his wet hair, chuckling nonetheless as Dipper shouts a hasty apology.

Jheselbraum appears nonplussed by the children’s antics and instead laughs as Stan catches Dipper by the shirt, smearing his neck with mud.

Mabel proceeds to proclaim herself the heroine as she gathers more balloons from the bucket on the porch, marching back towards the two boys in attempt to rescue her brother.

Jheselbraum looks down at Ford, gathering her wet robes in her hands to stand. She offers her hand to him and smiles sweetly. “You’ll be fine,” she says simply.

Ford returns her smile and accepts her hand, being easily pulled to his feet. He turns and looks behind him, watching his brother go after a heavily armed Mabel.

“Yeah,” he says, laughing as Dipper runs up to him, breathless and balloons in hand.

“We need major help, Great Uncle Ford,” Dipper says, shoving a green balloon in Ford’s hand. He then looks up and Jheselbraum and smiles. “Grunkle Stan’s going down.”

It goes on like this, all five laughing and panting and soaking; all five relaxing in the yard as the sun sets below the horizon; Mabel presenting her drawing for the elder twins, and Dipper bestowing a book for Ford and a fresh deck of cards for Stan; Jheselbraum telling stories to everyone, many poking fun at the eldest twin who splutters indignantly before succumbing to the nostalgia; campfires, s’mores,  and more stories against a star-spotted sky; cicadas singing into the night and crickets chirping; the children falling asleep across three laps; waking up with a soft sunrise of purples and pinks; the alien is gone, but her voice still hums in his ears.

_You’ll be okay._

The children stir in their uncle’s laps and Stan’s snores cease.

_I’ll be okay._

And so it goes on like that.

**Author's Note:**

> Request things for me to write in the comments!


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